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As we went home, I thought of my hand pressed against my stomach in the bathroom the night of the wedding, about the terror and wonder of that positive test, and the fragile hope that had started growing alongside the fear over these past weeks. Graham had just made it unmistakably clear that hope existed inside his crosshairs now too.

Family is precious, don’t you think? Legacy. The particular fragility of something small and new.

I pressed a hand against my stomach, the gesture becoming as automatic now as breathing.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Nikolai

I noticed the tremor in her hands before she’d said a single word about what had happened. Camila stood just inside the door, coat still on despite the warmth of the apartment.

I saw clearly that her composure was only held together with the same discipline I used when something had cut deeper than I wanted anyone to see.

“What happened?” I asked, though my tone said it was not really a question. It was a demand delivered as gently as I could manage, my hand already reaching for the coat still hanging heavy on her shoulders.

“Graham called,” she dropped. “Expressly threatened our baby. Said he’s waiting for your next move.”

I felt something dark and immediate ignite in my chest, the same fury that had nearly broken my composure entirely in his private lounge. This time I forced it down completely, because Camila needed something else from me than my rage.

She needed to feel safe.

“Sit,” I said, guiding her toward the couch with a hand at the small of her back. “I’ll handle dinner.”

She looked at me. “You’re going to… cook.”

“I know how to cook. I simply don’t bother.” I loosened my cuffs, rolling my sleeves as I moved toward the kitchen, aware of her watching me with disbelief. “Sit. Rest. Let me do this.”

I worked through the motions methodically. I found the ingredients and made something simple, deliberately not fussy.

I set the plate in front of her with more care than I’d shown any task in longer than I could remember.

“You’re really doing this,” Camila said, watching me across the table with an expression somewhere between amusement and quiet wonder. “The man who terrifies an entire casino floor is making me dinner.”

“He’s your husband,” I said dryly, and she actually laughed. “And you’re his baby.” I took her hand and kissed it.

“He won’t touch you,” I said, more seriously now, holding her eyes across the table. “Or our child. Whatever Graham believes he’s capable of, I intend to make certain he never gets close enough to test it. I’ve spent decades building the resources to protect what matters to me. Nothing has ever mattered more than this.”

She set down her fork, studying me with a soft expression. “I believe you.”

“Good. Because I mean every word of it.” I reached across the table again and covered her hand with mine. “Finish eating. You need it, and so does the baby.”

“Bossy,” she murmured, though she picked her fork back up without further argument, making me chuckle.

Something about the domestic normalcy of that exchange—her teasing, my instruction—felt more grounding than any security detail I’d doubled outside this building.

I helped her into bed later, drawing back the covers myself, another intimacy I’d rarely bothered with in any previous relationship. She watched me with quiet fascination as I knelt beside the bed, her fingers already reaching toward my hair before I’d fully settled. I pressed a kiss to the curve of her stomach, my hand resting flat against the warmth of her skin.

“Whatever happens,” I said quietly, the words meant as much for the child as for her, “I will make certain the world you’re born into is safer than the one your mother has had to survive. I promise.”

Camila’s breath caught audibly, and when I looked up, her eyes had gone bright with tears she was fighting not to let fall.

“You’re going to be a good father,” she said softly, her hand finding mine where it still rested against her stomach.

“I intend to try.” I pressed one more kiss to her stomach before climbing into bed beside her.

I hovered above her, kissing the side of her lips, silently asking a question. When she parted her legs and pulled me closer, I knew what the answer was.

“I comforted you with my food,” I started, peppering kisses all over her face. “Now I want to comfort you with my body.”